"Son of a biTCH! MY SHIRT!"

He was frozen in that moment, staring straight ahead at the man screaming at him in Italian and looking red enough to compete with the Spanish flag painted on Antonio's face.

"How the fuck do you manage to spill your fucking face paint all over my shirt? Are you bat shit fucking blind?"

Well fuck. Antonio didn't know how to respond to that. He didn't speak English and he was barely grasping a damn word that this man was saying. He spoke Spanish, German, French, he knew Latin and Italian. But not English. And frankly, he wasn't sure if he wanted to speak to this man yelling at him.

"Are you gonna say something?" Francis asked from next to him, "He screamed in Italian so I think it's safe to say he probably speaks it."

"No se. I don't really want to try and talk him. He looks like he's going to rip my dick off if I speak."

"Eugh, you're French," the man scrunched his nose upon hearing the two speaking to each other.

Francis clearly took offense, gasping dramatically and shouting at Antonio to hit him. But Antonio pushed Francis back and tilted his head, laughing hysterically. He wheezed and eventually let go of Francis, simply howling in amusement.

"Dios mio! You're such a dumbass!" he snickered, watching the man's face twist in confusion at the sudden switch to Italian.

"You speak Italian?"

"No no," Antonio shook his head, "I'm just speaking in Italian to you to let you know that I clearly don't speak Italian."

The man's lip quivered a bit before he burst into laughter, snorting in the middle of his amusement.

Antonio shook his head, "You have a fucking filthy mouth, you know? And apparently a terrible prejudice against the French. You're more of a dumbass than anything, you know. This is the Spanish flag on my face, shortie."

"I dunno. Maybe you just like the team." the man said with a shrug, "And call me a dumbass one more time and I'll-"

"You'll what? Kick my ass? Chiquito, you can barely reach my neck," Antonio chuckled, clicking his tongue.

The man gasped the most dramatic gasp Antonio had ever heard in his life. Hell, this man was even clutching his chest dramatically despite the horrid red stain that was smeared all over the once green shirt. Eyes shot wide open, he went silent and Antonio waited, expecting a terrible insult from him that he could shoot back at.

But instead, the guy burst out laughing and collapsed back into his seat. He was snorting in between his laughter. It was absolutely horrid. Yet, Antonio listened in awe and watched this man who had been yelling at him seconds before laughing hysterically as if they were joking like a pair of friends.

"I'm sorry. I know we were having a bitch fit there, but that was the gayest gasp I have ever let out and I felt like I was acting in a soap opera for a moment." he snorted again, laughing at his own ridiculous laugh, "Why do I even care that you fucked up my shirt? I can easily clean it or just get a new one."

Antonio raised his brow, a half smile on his face. He didn't notice Francis trying to talk to him since he was far too invested in the guy in front of him with an ugly laugh and the cutest wrinkles in the corner of his eyes when he smiled.

"If you're not planning on yelling at me again, I might as well introduce myself. Antonio Fernandez."

"Vargas. Lorenzo Vargas."

Antonio's mouth went into a small 'o' as he reached out to shake his hand. Lorenzo looked at him knowingly and grinned proudly. Perhaps he should have picked up that this was a Vargas. He was the spitting image of his grandfather and he didn't shy away from appearing in the news.

"A pleasure to meet you, Vargas. Now, what was this about that being the gayest gasp that you ever let out? Is the prized Vargas son attracted to men?" he asked.

Lorenzo gasped and pulled his hand away, folding his arms over his chest, "Are you flirting with me? Weren't you just calling me a dumbass a few moments ago?"
He had a point. Antonio had been rather irritated. Yet, the banter kinda attracted him. It was refreshing and it filled him with a sense of glee. Not to mention the way that he laughed was absolutely adorable in his eyes despite it being so absolutely horrendous. He might as well have listened to the recording of a dying cat because that was what his laughter reminded him of.

"Maybe, but I'm also a very sad gay man and I am also very very poor." he laughed as he said the last part, watching Lorenzo's eyes light up with amusement for a moment before he pushed Antonio's shoulder gently. There was a delicate smile that grew on his face, it spread crookedly, but Antonio was a very helpless man and he practically melted.

"A gold digger, huh? How attractive. I'm just falling at your feet." Lorenzo rolled his eyes, slouching forward.

Antonio shoved his hands in his pockets, "Who knows? Maybe you actually are attracted to me. Though the question is whether or not I am willing to date someone who goes to Hogwarts. Especially a Slytherin."

Lorenzo gasped again, a hand flying over his chest, "How dare you! I am a proud Slytherin and I will defend Hogwarts til my dying breath! Tch, you act so high and mighty. I bet you go to Beauxbatons."

From behind the bickering pair, Francis' eyes widened and he huffed angrily, looking ready to strangle the both of them. But Antonio did not see, he was far too invested in the Vargas gem who truly was much more wonderful than he allowed himself to be viewed. A bit of a jackass really, but actually kind of funny and very interesting to challenge.

"What's wrong with Beauxbatons?" he asked with a tilt of the head. His hair fell in his face and his eyes stared at Lorenzo who stared back with the same passion.

That snake, the way he looked at Antonio like some sort of pet. He shrugged gently and stepped forward, inches away from being pressed against his chest, "What isn't wrong with being from Beauxbatons? It's French."

"Antonio, I am going to murder the little demon. Stop flirting and crush him! He's tarnishing my honor!"

"What have you got against the French?" Antonio asked.

"What haven't I got against the French? I'm fucking Italian."

Antonio snorted.

Neither of them (nor Francis) seemed to notice the people staring at them from all around. This was rather concerning considering they were at the Quidditch World Cup and they should have been watching the game. But no. Instead, Antonio was ready to ask the man whom he had been arguing with out on a date and Francis looked ready to pounce (or cry) from the "dishonor" inflicted by a man who didn't even look like he was 5'6 and sounded like the biggest twink Antonio had ever met.

Though to be fair, Antonio was pretty gay and this was a situation where he was allowing himself to fall victim to The Homosexuality™.

"Well," Lorenzo said, putting his hands on his hips, "Unless being a Hogwarts student who is a Slytherin is too horrifying and terrible for you, I'll be here until Monday."

Antonio grinned, "Is that a date offer?"

"If you want it to be, sure."

"Antonio, do not run off with the enemy!"

He was not listening to Francis. A shot with someone like Lorenzo Vargas? Antonio was taking that shot. It had nothing to do with his wealth or status, that was just a side thing that he found funny. Truth be told, Antonio was rather interested in the stupid arguments that they could get into. If all it took to calm him down from a messy shirt was laughing at his own reactions, Antonio wanted to be around him more to see what other things got that sort of reaction out of him.

"You don't mind lowering yourself to someone from Beauxbatons?"

Lorenzo shrugged, "I think I'll manage."

Francis was practically screaming from behind Antonio while the people around them slowly began to lose interest and went back to the game that they had come to watch. But these two wizards kept their gaze on each other. With soft smiles on their face and this playful look in their eyes, it wasn't hard to tell that they really liked each other (much to Francis' dismay).

Even if whatever this moment was didn't last, Antonio wanted to spend his time getting to know Lorenzo properly. He was funny and cute and Antonio was a weak man for that ability to go from angry to laughing in a few seconds. He knew that he wanted to get to know him; he could tolerate one Slytherin.

"Can you tolerate a Hogwarts Slytherin?" Lorenzo asked, plopping himself back in his seat.

"I think I can tolerate one," he replied.

"I'm conflicted between supporting this romantic endeavor or murdering you in cold blood for wooing the man who spat on my culture and living."

"Does he realize I can understand him?"

"Nope."

Lorenzo shrugged and went back to talking to Antonio.

The two clicked in this way that sparked this light in their lives. Antonio didn't know if it was the joking rivalry, the way Lorenzo later stained his shirt as revenge for the ruined one he was wearing, the ability to poke fun at each other, the subtle flirting in between their convo, or the fact they missed the entire game because all that they could do was talk to each other because they were the most fascinating part of the night in each other's eyes.

They didn't even know who won.

What Antonio did know is his tiny teenage stomach did flips with every light touch that Lorenzo gave him and that awkward laugh that was too loud and too animated. Even if this fling was temporary and he and Lorenzo went on to simply be friends, he didn't mind so long as he got a chance at all.

Neither of them noticed when the game had ended and Francis draped himself dramatically over the seat next to them, waiting for them to quit flirting and notice that it was time to go. Where were parents when you needed them to interrupt this shit?

"We've been talking a long time, but you never did tell me why the Vargas family ended up in the UK." Antonio said as their night drew to a close.

Lorenzo sighed, "Well, Italy isn't exactly the best place for magical people with the Catholic Church and all. And yeah, most people don't really believe in it or attack us anymore, but enough do that my grandfather took us away and it was right about when I was old enough to go to school. When Romeo got hurt, we ran out as fast as we could."

Antonio fell silent.

He forgot about things like that.

"I'm so sorry," he said, reaching and putting his hand on Lorenzo's arm. Lorenzo looked up at him with the softest, most genuine smile he had seen that night, and sighed.

"It's alright. You don't usually think about these things and I don't talk about them." He brushed it off so quickly and as if he didn't care.

"You must miss Italy though."

Lorenzo's breath hitched and he clutched his arm, holding on tight as he looked away, "...Terribly."

There was a heartbreak Antonio (and even Francis) had never seen in his eyes. It was as if his entire world was plucked away and he was left attempting to stand bold while he crumbled apart. It was odd how that worked; the way a person could go from laughing to crumbling and shattering in the matter of a few seconds. But, it was that change that convinced Antonio he truly wanted to be a part of Lorenzo's life. Yeah, he had little to nothing to offer; the fact was that he was poor. Yet, Antonio wanted to give him the world and life and laughter.

"One day, I'll take you there."

The moment he said it, his face went red, realizing how stupid he sounded. Lorenzo came from the Vargas bloodline! They could go back whenever they wished, they didn't need empty promises from some teenager with no money to his name.

And yet, Lorenzo looked up at him with big eyes, as if he had offered him more money than a king could offer.

"Do you mean it?"

"Of course I do."

Lorenzo kept staring at him, his face burning up and the awkward teenager in him pouring out onto the floor, "You're so fucking gay."

Antonio laughed and shook his head gently, "Yeah. But I'm going to be honest with you, I'll be whatever you want me to be."

"Even my date for tomorrow night?"

"Especially your date for tomorrow night."

After giving each other their info and agreeing on where to meet the next night, the two sat there and just stared at each other. They didn't need to say anything to feel like they were having the most intimate conversation. It drove the reminder that they were teenagers who went to schools far apart with little chance of maintaining a stable relationship, but for that moment, just the fleeting second, the world was theirs and none of that mattered.

It didn't last long. Soon the crowned Vargas himself walked in. He was as big and bold as Antonio imagined. He radiated power and it was funny to see him so bold and strong next to Lorenzo who was not exactly weak or fragile, but definitely much smaller.

"Lorenzo, there you are! Come, we've been looking for you so we could leave."

"In a minute, old man. I'm having a moment." he said.

Antonio's eyes widened even more. He expected yelling or anger, but Romulus simply rolled his eyes and laughed.

"Cute, but we have to leave, boy! Come on. You can flirt with the guy tomorrow."

Lorenzo groaned and threw his head back, "Ugh! Let me be gay!"

"No."

He gasped dramatically staring at his grandfather with the fakest pair of puppy eyes he or Francis had ever seen—which was really fake considering Antonio was king of the puppy eyes game, "I always knew you didn't support my pursuit of men!"

"Boy, I am just as gay as you are, don't start." his grandfather shot back with a chuckle.

Antonio was stunned. He hadn't known that about the Vargas family. No wonder he was the prized grandson; he truly was the image of his grandfather (albeit not as muscular).

Lorenzo laughed a little and shook his head. He looked to Antonio and shrugged. It wasn't like he really had a choice. Antonio understood that and he understood that he respected his grandfather's words.

"Tomorrow night?" he asked, grabbing his hand as he stood up to leave.

Lorenzo looked back at him with large eyes and a slightly opened mouth. It curved into a big, dorky, goofy grin and he nodded, "Tomorrow night. Don't leave me hanging or I'll have to hate Beauxbatons forever."

"Aw," Antonio smacked his leg with a faux look of disappointment, "Now I have to go."

Lorenzo rolled his eyes, that smile still on his face despite his deepest attempts to bury it from sight. he waved him goodbye and ran off with his grandfather who appeared to be cheering him on. Antonio watched them laugh and push each other as they left, Lorenzo chasing his grandfather after he said something that Antonio assumed was embarrassing from the way he put his hand to his heart.

As he watched them leave, he felt like a large spell finally released him. He was no longer in this moment of sublime where the sky was filled with reds and oranges and the simple words that were spoken shook him to the core. Now it was reality where the sky was dark, people were leaving, and all there was to prove that Lorenzo had ever existed and had not been a figment of his imagination was the ink on his arm.

"So," Francis stepped in sitting next to him, "You're flirting with the enemy."

"Hell yeah, I am."

The two friends walked out and Antonio thought about the warm feeling in his stomach that spreading to every other part of him. For once, he wasn't a poor kid nor was he someone with no opportunity to find someone to love. He was Antonio and he was flirting and he was content.

A million little thoughts of what could happen and the things that could develop swarmed through his mind. He took one last look behind them to Lorenzo who was still chasing his grandfather and smiled. Yes, he liked this guy and he couldn't wait for their date.

"Wait, who won the game-?"